


The other side of surrender

by ravenbringslight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempted Sexual Assault, Coming of Age, Consensual Underage Sex, Light Angst, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Moving In Together, Mutual Pining, Nostalgia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Sibling Incest, Well technically a brief mention of consensual underage hand jobs, but you've been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-23 17:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/pseuds/ravenbringslight
Summary: Loki moves in with his older brother to finish out his last year of college. Why did he leave the dorms? Why is he so tense now?Why can't Thor forget the past?It’s both easy and hard, learning how to live with each other again. Easy because that old affection never left and slipping back into it is as natural as breathing. Hard because, well, they’re different now, older, debatably wiser - more set in ways which don’t include each other anymore. There’s a wall between them that was never there before, or maybe it’s just a wall around Loki.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lokidreamsinbw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidreamsinbw/gifts).



> This is for lokidreamsinbw, who won what was supposed to be a 2000 word fic giveaway, but I started writing it and it kept growing so we're going to see where it takes us.

Thor wonders if Loki is still a cuddler.

He steals glances out of the corner of his eye as they unpack. Loki’s life from the past three years is stacked in tidy towers around Thor’s apartment - _their_ apartment - and labeled with Loki’s small precise handwriting. _Dishes, Summer Clothes, Winter Clothes, Books, Art Supplies_. All neatly categorized, just the way Loki likes it.

Thor tries to categorize his brother the same way, tries to look at the man he’s becoming and see if he fits into the same boxes that he used to. What have the past three years of college living done to him? What exactly happened to make him want to leave dorm life so badly that he asked Thor if he could live with him for his senior year? Is he different now?

Well, of course he’s _different_ , they’re all _different_ , but is he still _Loki_ or has the world tried to beat it out of him?

“Can I use half your closet?” Loki asks, arms heaped full of of black and green clothing. “I brought some hangers.”

“Of course,” Thor says. “Mi casa su casa.”

Loki rolls his eyes and starts hanging his stuff up. Unexpectedly, it strikes Thor that for the first time in the seven years since he himself left home for college that their clothes are going to mingle - in the closet, in the hamper, in the wash, maybe even on their bodies - and it feels almost intimate.

Ok, now he’s just looking for excuses to be maudlin.

“Sorry we don’t have room for an actual extra bed,” Thor apologizes for the tenth time.

“I keep telling you, sleeping on your pullout couch is fine. The mattress isn’t any worse than what I was dealing with at school.” Loki’s tone is light, but Thor still feels bad.

“Yeah but it would be nice for you to have your own bedroom.”

“Thor. Seriously. This is already so much better than that cesspool, I would be happy sleeping in your bathtub.”

Oh baby brother, what did they do to you. The Loki that Thor grew up with would have demanded the bedroom for himself with his own personal king sized bed and thousand-thread-count sheets and possibly a servant to feed him grapes while he reclined. Thor crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight uncomfortably.

“Maybe we could move the couch to the corner and rig up a curtain…”

“ _Thor_. It’s fine. Well. As long as you keep the living room clean. It’s only for a year.”

Loki is standing in front of him now, green eyes boring into his earnestly, and Thor has to catch his breath. Right. Not even a year, only two semesters really, and then Loki will graduate and make his own way. The late afternoon sun paints Loki’s face in rose and gold, bringing out the shadows under his cheekbones. He’s sparer than he used to be, the apple-cheeked roundness of childhood melted away, and in the diffuse light he looks half an angel, some marble sculpture brought to life.

“We should celebrate tonight,” Thor says, changing topics, suddenly restless. “Go out for dinner and drinks.”

Loki makes a face. “Money,” he says sourly.

“C’mon, it’s a special occasion.”

“Special? It’s just me, you’ve seen me a million times, and now that I’m here you’ll see me a million more.”

“Still special,” Thor insists. He can’t exactly articulate why. Loki is _here_ , not just for a few hours at a time like they usually see each other nowadays at family gatherings and whatnot, but _here_. “I’ll pay. Come out with me.”

“Alright.” Loki drops his eyes and smiles slightly. Thor wants to reach out and run his thumb along those curved lips but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to. “Let me just unpack a bit more first or I won’t be able to relax at all.”

Thor catches up on work email while Loki bustles around for another hour, methodically taking his belongings out of their boxes and finding the perfect spot for each thing; Thor knows that Loki would just rearrange anything he tried to unpack so he leaves him to it. Loki spends another twenty minutes in the bathroom, changing his clothes, fussing at his hair, using about twelve different beauty products that Thor can’t even name let alone tell you what they do. When he’s done he looks perfect, immaculate, not one strand of hair out of place or one stray wrinkle on his pants, ready to present himself to the world as a flawless image of seemingly effortless grace.

Dusk is falling by the time they leave, the days slightly shorter now that summer is almost over. The air feels hushed and expectant, the kind of air that seems to almost caress you, funnel every little sound lovingly into your ear. It absorbs the jingle of Thor’s keys and delivers it back as a tinkling melody, takes their quiet footfalls on the still-warm pavement and turns them into a secret message tapped out in morse code and delivered only to their ears.

Loki’s hand brushes Thor’s as they walk and neither one jumps away.

Thor’s apartment - _their_ apartment, he’s not used to that yet - is set back in a little green cul-de-sac a block off the main drag, and they round the corner onto the busy strip of restaurants and businesses and wander until something looks good.

They end up at a Mexican restaurant, a place that’s full of garishly colored plastic chairs and cheerful specials written hastily on a chalkboard and people loudly drinking margaritas on the patio.

Loki gets street style tacos and Thor gets the biggest enchilada platter that the restaurant has and they both eat too many chips because the salsa is so good. The margaritas are surprisingly strong for how cheap they are and Thor has three, his smile getting slightly bigger with each sip of salty lime. Loki is drinking Coronas (also with lime) and his own smiles come easier with every one until finally Thor sees that full sunny smile with all the teeth that he remembers. It’s the one Loki always tries his best to hide because he hates the way it makes him look, but Thor loves it. It’s been too long since he’s seen it. It pleases him immeasurably that he was able to coax it from Loki tonight.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Thor says as they amble back home. He has his hands shoved in his pockets and he knocks his shoulder against Loki’s. “We haven’t gotten to hang out properly in so long. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Loki says quietly. “More than you know.”

Thor wraps his arm around Loki’s shoulders and gives him a squeeze. They’re broader than they were before. “Try me,” he says and Loki laughs and pushes him off. 

It’s not too late by the time they get home so Thor puts on Netflix while Loki gets some more beers from the fridge. Loki settles himself way on the other end of the couch, curled up like a cat, his hair beginning to go wavy in the humidity. Thor is struck with the sudden memory of evenings spent sitting on his bed at their parents’ house doing his homework; Loki would sit on the floor drawing, and he would lean his head against Thor’s leg while Thor ran his fingers through all that silky black hair.

Sudden nostalgia hits him like a blow to the chest.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Thor says.

“Watching tv, if you hadn’t noticed,” Loki says wryly.

More memories, of movie and tv marathons, snuggling together in various pretzel-like configurations on the basement couch at home, always touching.

Wordlessly, Thor holds his arm out wide and gestures for Loki to come over.

“Thor,” Loki says and his eyes are unreadable, full of sixteen different emotions. “We shouldn’t, not anymore…”

Thor just keeps his arm out and waits, holding his breath. He’s a ball perched on the apex of a roof, waiting to see which side he’ll roll down.

With a sigh, Loki sets his beer down and crawls over to settle against Thor’s chest and Thor makes a little sound of pleasure. This. This is what he’s missed the most.

“You’re still a cuddler,” Thor says happily. “I was starting to wonder.”

“Hmph,” Loki says. “Don’t push it.” But he presses his cheek into Thor’s chest.

Thor doesn’t even know what they’re watching, some kind of documentary or something, but he’s not paying any attention to it. His fingers are running through Loki’s hair the way they used to, the way it turns out they’ve been aching to. The tequila has made him bold and he drops a gentle kiss on the crown of that dark head. He’d thought before that Loki looked made of marble, but he isn’t, he’s warm and soft and his yielding flesh is pushed tightly against Thor’s own.

At some point, Thor reaches up to brush Loki’s hair behind his ear and his cheek is wet.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What is it?”

“I’m just...really happy that I’m here. That you...want me to be here.”

“Me too,” Thor says, holding him tighter. “I do.”

“I hated it there. So much.” Loki ends in a strangled sound like he’s trying not to sob.

“Shhh,” Thor says, stroking the back of his head, “you’re here now. You can tell me about it later, ok? You don’t have to talk now.”

He wants to tell Loki not to cry, but he thinks that maybe Loki needs to, so he doesn’t say it. He may not know everything about his brother anymore, but the last time he saw him cry was seven years ago and he knows with bone deep certainty that Loki would never let anyone else see him cry, ever.

Loki sniffles and clutches at Thor and Thor closes his eyes and rests his cheek against the top of Loki’s head. His little brother. He has an image of himself as a dragon, curled around the priceless treasure in his arms, ready to guard him fiercely, to protect him from whatever has hurt him, to rip to shreds anyone that might try again. His heart feels full and tight.

They fall asleep like that on the couch. Thor wakes up in the early hours of the morning but getting up seems more trouble than it’s worth so he rearranges them just slightly, hits the power button on the remote to turn the tv off and reaches back to shut off the lamp, then starts to drift back off to sleep. Loki sighs dreamily and burrows his face into Thor’s neck and for a brief second Thor is sure that he feels the gentle flutter of pursed lips on his throat.

Loki spends the next day unpacking the rest of his stuff and then takes the metro to campus to buy his books for the semester.

“This is highway robbery,” he announces flatly, coming into their tiny kitchen and dropping the bag of books heavily on the small round table wedged in the corner. “I don’t know how this is legal.”

“Yeah it’s pretty slimy,” Thor agrees. He’s pulling a pan full of chicken breasts out of the oven. “Hey, I usually cook enough on Sundays to pack my lunch for the week, do you want me to make extra for you?”

“Oh!” Loki says, and Thor thinks he sounds both surprised and pleased. “Thank you. No. I have a meal card.”

“It’s probably better that way. My trainer has me eating mostly chicken and broccoli and protein shakes, it’s pretty boring.”

“Well whatever you’re doing seems to be working.” Loki comes up behind him and pokes a finger into his bicep. Thor has to resist the urge to lean back into him. “That actually smells pretty good though.”

Monday brings work for Thor and classes for Loki, and one week turns into two weeks turns into a month, and they fall into a kind of routine.

It’s both easy and hard, learning how to live with each other again. Easy because that old affection never left and slipping back into it is as natural as breathing. Hard because, well, they’re different now, older, debatably wiser - more set in ways which don’t include each other anymore. There’s a wall between them that was never there before, or maybe it’s just a wall around Loki.

They’re not home at the same time all that much, but when they are Thor starts noticing all the ways Loki is different now. He’s reserved where he used to be open, straight backed and straightlaced, tense like a coiled spring. He’s neat to a fault. Loki had always been tidier than Thor but now it almost seems like a compulsion. It makes Thor feel bad to see Loki picking up after him so he tries harder to be a little neater himself.

Loki had been pretty type A even in high school, but it’s different now. He gets home from class and retypes all his notes, then color codes them and puts them in binders. He spends hours in the bathroom meticulously grooming himself. Even his emotions seem contained now, carefully controlled. He rarely does anything spontaneously.

Thor wonders how much of it is just maturity and how much of it is trying to compensate for something. He wonders again exactly what happened at college.

His little brother is still in there though, in rare smiles and rarer throaty laughter, in the way he still allows himself to take comfort in physical closeness. It’s unusual for them to both be on the couch and not be touching each other in some way. Thor loves it; it feels like home in a way he’s never been able to make his apartment feel when he lived here alone. He loves that Loki trusts him enough to still do that. He loves Loki.

More than he should, probably.

It’s always been that way though.

Sometimes he lies in his bed and thinks of Loki out in the other room. He remembers the last summer before he left for college - he had been eighteen, Loki fifteen. He remembers the quiet unspoken thing that had blossomed in the space between their parted lips and drawn them, sighing, together. The fumbling kisses in the dark.

The last night before he left, how Loki had come to his room with tears in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Loki had cried into his shoulder. “Who will hold me together?”

“You’re strong,” Thor had murmured, kissing his cheeks. “Stronger than you know. You don’t need me.”

The kisses had turned into more that night, had become a desperate slide against each other until, gasping, they’d spilled into each other’s hands.

It had been the first, last, and only time but it’s irrevocably burned into Thor’s memory.

Thor has managed to put it mostly from his mind in the intervening years, as in he doesn’t think about it every day any more, but Loki being here now has awakened something in him that was probably best left sleeping. He won’t act on it though. They had been so young, too young to fully understand the weight of making decisions like that. He figures that they both know better now.

It doesn’t stop him from dreaming.

And maybe, in a small hidden little corner of his heart, from hoping.


	2. Chapter 2

They have an evening when they're both home and Thor cooks them dinner - stir fry because it's easy to satisfy them both that way. Thor's plate is all meat and veggies and Loki's, what little there is of it, is mostly rice. He picks at his food disinterestedly. Thor tries to talk to him about his week, his schoolwork, his friends, anything to distract himself from the worry he feels at Loki's increasingly hollow cheeks and too-sharp hip bones. 

“Hey I know I'm not Martha Stewart, but my food isn't _that_ bad,” Thor gently teases as he scrapes Loki's leftovers into a tupperware.

Loki winces. “Sorry. It's not your cooking. I'm just - not hungry lately.”

“Something on your mind?” Thor says and tries to keep his tone light, almost holding his breath. That's more than Loki's given him in a couple weeks.

“No. Yes. Maybe. It's just school.”

Thor wants to ask more, but Loki turns abruptly and goes out into the living room. Feeling a vague sense of wrongness, Thor finishes cleaning up, trying to banish it with the methodical work of scrubbing and racking dishes.

Loki is flung out across the couch looking for all the world like a cat, some kind of lounging panther or something, staring at his phone blankly. His “going-out” mask is gone - here at home he pads around in lounge pants that cling to him in places Thor shouldn’t be looking, hair up in a messy bun, chewing on the ends of his glasses.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” he says absently, scrolling, scrolling.

“Hey.” Thor taps Loki's feet until he lifts them up enough for Thor to slide under. He rests his hands on Loki's ankles, rubs his thumb over the knobbly bone. “What is it?”

A fleeting grimace passes across Loki's face and he flings his phone down and pulls his glasses off, scrubs at his face and sighs.

Thor forges ahead. He’s got a feeling that Loki might open up tonight for some reason. “You're barely eating, every time I wake up at night your light is on out here. You hardly talk to me. I'm worried.”

“Not everything is your problem, ok?” Loki snaps.

“Well not everything has to be just yours, either. Let me help you.”

Another sigh floats out of Loki, this one high pitched, and it hangs in the air between them. He rests his glasses on his chest and holds his hands over his eyes, as if dulling one of his senses will make talking more bearable.

“...I’m sorry,” he says finally. “I’m...just so used to holding myself together. I forgot what having someone give a shit about me feels like.” _“What am I supposed to do without you?”_ Loki’s voice echoes in his memory.

“Hey,” Thor protests. “I’ve always given a shit.”

“But you weren’t always there.” It’s such a simple statement for how unexpectedly pointed it feels, and Loki’s voice sounds so small, like the fifteen-year-old Thor left behind all those years ago, that suddenly Thor’s chest feels too tight to breathe. _”You don’t need me,”_ Thor had said back then, not realizing that his words were their own prophecy.

“Loki -” he starts and his own voice sounds plaintive. He doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence. His hand slides up Loki’s leg, wordlessly groping, and Loki reaches down and twines their fingers together. Finally Thor makes his voice work again. “I’m here now.”

“I’m just stressed is all,” Loki says, exhaling. “Midterms are next week. I’ve been studying a lot.”

That can’t be everything bothering Loki and Thor knows it, but he decides not to push. Not tonight anyway. “Whatever I can do to help, let me know, ok? I want to help.”

“Just...thanks for noticing.” Loki’s hand squeezes his. “I really appreciate it.”

Thor wants to gather Loki to his chest and kiss him they way they used to, the way he still wants to. He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t. It’s clear Loki has moved on from...whatever they had. He shouldn’t complicate things, shouldn’t add this burden to Loki’s already straining shoulders. So he strokes Loki’s knuckles instead.

“Of course,” he says. “Just let me know if you ever need anything. Ok? Please.” He doesn’t even know what they’re talking about anymore. It’s not schoolwork, but he doesn’t know what it is.

“I think...would you mind if I went to bed early tonight?”

Thor kisses his hand and stands up. “Yeah, ok.”

Loki starts taking the cushions off the couch to pull out his bed. There’s so much left unsaid, by both of them, that Thor feels smothered under the weight of it. He reaches for Loki but pulls his hand back before it makes contact.

He's three steps away when he thinks _fuck it_ and turns back around to fold a surprised Loki into a bear hug.

“I know you haven't told me a tenth of what's in your head and I know I haven't really been there since...since a long time ago, but you're not alone, ok, you were never alone, you just didn't know you still had me and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm here now, I'm sorry.”

Loki is boneless, melting, but only for a moment, and then he's shoving Thor away and stumbling back.

“You don't get to do this,” he says shakily. “It's not fair."

“What -” Thor says, not understanding, but Loki shoves at him again.

“You don't get to disappear for years and then come back claiming you were never gone, it doesn't _work_ like that.”

Thor catches Loki’s hands this time, and the bones of his wrists are so delicate under Thor’s fingers he feels like he might crush them. Regret floods through him. All those lost years, years they might have been able to weather together but that had them both leaning into the wind alone - and obviously Loki’s path had been harder than his own, even if he didn’t yet know quite why -

“I didn't have a choice,” Thor says. He hadn’t, had he? It’s not like he could have just stayed home, or taken Loki with him.

“I know that. I don’t blame you for going to college. But life happened in the meantime. You don't get to pretend it didn't.” Loki’s voice sounds measured if a bit shaky but he struggles against Thor’s arms; it’s perfunctory, he’s not really trying to get away, and he drops his head to blink away tears. This wasn’t what Thor had in mind when he decided to try and prod at Loki tonight - he’d wanted to help him, not make him more upset.

“I’m sorry,” Thor says again, and he knows how inadequate it is but he doesn’t know what else to say. “I missed you every day.”

“Every day? Really?” Loki snaps his head up and his tone is incredulous...almost anger. “Every single day? This is too much, I can’t, please.”

He struggles weakly again but he takes one step closer to Thor and Thor hauls him in and wraps his arms around those sharp shoulder blades and then Loki is shaking and hanging onto him with grasping fingers and wetting Thor’s shirt with his tears.

“I tried not to need you,” Loki is crying. “I tried so fucking hard.”

Thor’s heart is breaking and he blinks back tears of his own.

“I’m here now,” he says, over and over again, and “you’re here now.”

Loki pulls back and his glasses are at a crazy angle from being pressed into Thor’s chest, so Thor reaches up and gently straightens them, and he looks so wrecked and sad and - and maybe hopeful? Thor’s not certain - and Thor lets the backs of his fingers trail down Loki’s cheek.

The touch is different from simple physical comfort and they can both feel it, because Loki turns his face to the side and whispers, “We shouldn’t.”

“I know,” Thor murmurs. But his body isn’t under his control anymore and he finds himself leaning in to press a long kiss to that smooth cheek that’s offered up so enticingly. “I know,” he says again, resting his forehead against Loki’s temple, brushing his nose against the spot he just kissed.

A tiny sound escapes Loki’s throat and then his lips are on Thor’s for a flickering electric second.

“We shouldn’t,” Loki whispers again, but he hasn’t moved and his mouth is so sweet against Thor’s own, and then he’s pressing in fiercely for an instant, thrilling and incandescent, and then he’s pushing back and away and he’s out of Thor’s arms and he’s turning his back and crossing his arms over his chest.

Thor feels giddy and lightheaded and very confused, but also hopeful. He feels like he’s finally found the rickety ladder that will let him scale the wall around his little brother and put his foot on the first fragile rung and that it had held under his weight.

“I’d like to be alone now,” Loki says softly. Thor turns to go, but Loki reaches out and grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze. “Maybe we can talk more tomorrow. It’s just...too much tonight.”

Thor squeezes back. “I love you,” he says.

Loki closes his eyes. “I know.”

They don’t talk the next day because Thor doesn’t see Loki at all between work and classes and the gym and just life, and he doesn’t see him the next day either.

In fact, he doesn’t see him for a week, and Thor’s stomach knots tighter and tighter every evening that he goes to bed in an empty apartment.

He doesn’t hear a peep until next Friday, when he’s sitting at work trying to concentrate on his computer screen and failing miserably and his cell phone rings unexpectedly.

Thinking it’s probably a junk call he goes to hit ignore and instead sees “LOKI” flashing across his screen with a picture of one of Loki’s rare full-face smiles. Sudden panic grips him. Loki never calls him, and especially not while he’s at work.

Almost dropping his phone in his haste to answer, Thor swipes “answer call” frantically. “Loki?!” he says, trying to keep panic out of his voice.

“Thor?” Loki’s voice sounds so tiny, and is it from the phone or something else?

“Are you ok?”

“Not really.” Loki’s voice cracks. “Can you come pick me up?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a panic attack in this one, just in case that is likely to make you feel bad. There is also a brief description of a failed attempt at sexual assault. Take care of yourselves. <3

The tile of the bathroom wall feels cool against Loki's clammy forehead. It's probably disgusting to lean against it like that but Loki can't bring himself to care; it was the only place he could think of to get away and hide. His heart is racing so fast he feels like it might burst from his chest and he tries to take deep even breaths but it's so hard when he feels like he's so completely out of control.

He hasn't had a panic attack in awhile. But everything with Thor lately has had him hanging on by his fingernails, and then this morning to unexpectedly see Svad sauntering so casually down the quad, smiling and laughing like he didn't have a care in the world, like he was a normal person and not a fucking monster - it had come on him so fast he barely made it to the restroom before he was shaking so badly he felt like he might actually fall to pieces.

There was no way he was going to the rest of his classes after this and even once the attack was over he doubted he'd make it home on the metro without spiraling down again, so he had fumbled his phone out and called the one person he'd ever let see him in this state.

Even if that person had helped put him there in the first place.

Just knowing Thor is on his way helps Loki steady his breathing; imagining the hug he'll likely find himself pulled into, the familiar smell of Thor's aftershave. It rankles that he still needs Thor so much after all the time they've been apart, but the primal part of his panic-stricken brain can't deny that Thor's presence is exactly what he needs right now.

Twenty minutes feel like twenty hours, but then Loki sees Thor's shoes under the bottom of the stall door.

“In here,” he says weakly, and reaches out a trembling hand to unlock the stall.

Thor yanks the door open and for a split second Loki sees his frantic eyes, and then he pulls Loki out and into a hug just the way Loki knew he would and he melts against Thor's chest in relief.

“Are you ok? Why are you in the bathroom?” Thor is stroking his hair. It feels so protective, so good. Loki hates how much he likes it.

“I didn't want anyone to see me.”

“Oh sweetheart. Come on, let's get you home. Can you walk to the car?”

“Yeah I can walk. I think.”

_Sweetheart._

Loki still feels unsteady and nothing seems quite real, or maybe it seems so real that it feels fake - plastic grass and plastic trees and a caricature of a caring older brother drawn with absurd proportions. And Loki knows it's the panic attack but the knowledge doesn't help him feel any better. 

He closes his eyes and lets Thor guide him. The physical contact of his hands on Thor's arm feels like an anchor to actual reality. Thor's arm. Thor.

Here. With him.

Funny that this is the real part when for so long Thor's presence had been nothing more than a fantasy.

He curls in on himself in the backseat of the car, lying on his side, methodically tracing the stitching in the upholstery, breathing, coming down, coming down.

He's nearly himself by the time Thor finds a parking spot, a good one today since it's the middle of the day and most people are still out. Thor pulls him out of the car onto shaky legs. Loki is embarrassed that people might see him so disheveled but he tries to ignore it and wobble his way up the steps to their apartment, clutching the banister.

Thor's eyes never leave him, and they look so pinched and concerned that Loki could scream.

_You’re concerned now_ , he wants to spit, but he doesn't. He knows it's not fair. The tides had pulled them apart all those years ago and maybe Thor hadn't tried as hard as he could have to stay in Loki's life, but they had been kids - and Loki hadn't tried as hard as he could have either -

It's all so unfair.

“Why don't you rest on the couch and I'll get you some water, ok?”

“Thanks.”

Loki lays there with his arm over his eyes until Thor comes back with a tinkling glass of ice water. He’s taken off his tie and loosened the neck of his shirt and Loki averts his eyes.

“Does this happen to you often?” Thor says, crouching on the floor by Loki's head.

“Not anymore, no.” The cold glass feels so nice against his cheek that he holds it there for a minute with his eyes closed, and suddenly Thor is coming out of the kitchen again with a washcloth full of ice and he's kneeling down and pressing it to Loki's forehead so gently and Loki wants to cry _again_.

“But they did before?”

“Yeah.”

“There's so much I missed,” Thor says sadly. “I'm so sorry, Loki.”

“Don't,” Loki says softly but firmly. He can't have this conversation again right now. Thor's lips press into a thin line.

“Where have you been this week? I've been so worried -”

“Here. I was...coming home after you went to sleep and leaving before you got up.”

“Oh.” Then, “Did you have a panic attack today because of me?”

Oh Thor, always so blunt. Should he lie? He searches Thor's face and finds nothing but anguish and Loki feels his heart twist just a little.

“Not entirely. But our...conversation the other day didn't help.”

Thor looks away and his backlit profile is etched perfectly against the window behind him. He looks sad and achingly beautiful. Loki wants desperately to kiss him again, pull that giant bulk on top of him and lose himself in it.

But how can he? How can he cede that much power over to another person? Even if that person is his brother?

Especially if that person is his brother.

And he knows that Thor loves him, and that he would probably go along with it, but a nasty little voice in the back of his head tells him that Thor has only ever been humoring him. That there is no way that Thor could actually want something like that. That he just goes along with it because Loki wants it and he likes to make Loki happy.

The thought is almost unbearable. That he might give all of himself and get only fond indulgence in return.

“What else happened?” Thor says finally, turning back and dabbing at Loki's forehead again. “Do you want to talk about it?” His tone is neutral, careful. Loki recognizes it as the tone Thor uses when he's trying not to scare Loki away and it almost makes him laugh.

Well, why not. The day couldn't get much worse.

“I saw someone,” he says. “An old - someone I used to date.”

“He must be a pretty bad ex to shake you so bad.”

“You could say that. He's - the reason I wanted to leave the dorms.” Loki is proud of himself that he manages to keep his voice steady.

He keeps his eyes open, because he doesn't want to close them and see Svad closing in on him, kicking the door shut behind him, with that awful look on his face as he reaches -

“Hey, hey,” Thor is saying, snapping him out of it. “Hey don't talk about it if it's going to upset you, ok? It's not worth it.”

“I'm ok,” Loki says, smiling, although he suspects it's more like a grimace. “He just - he wanted something from me that I didn't want to give him. And when he didn't get it he tried to take it. And - stop, I can see the look on your face, I'm fine ok, I'm FINE, nothing actually happened - and when he couldn't take it either he started spreading lots of really nasty rumors about me.”

“Jesus,” Thor breathes, and he grabs Loki's hand that's not holding the water and kisses his knuckles and presses the back of his palm to his face. “Point him out to me and I'll kick his fucking head in. I swear to god. I'll go to jail, I don't care.”

“Stop,” Loki says, secretly pleased. “Seriously. I'm ok. I just...couldn't be there anymore seeing him every day. Seeing everyone's eyes on me all the time judging me about things that weren't even true.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Thor says earnestly, still gripping his hand. “But please...don't avoid me anymore?”

“Ok. I think I can do that.” He never wanted to avoid Thor in the first place, not really, but he had been taking the easy way out like usual...

“I won’t…” Thor swallows. “I’ll stop touching you if you want.”

“This is ok,” Loki whispers, giving his hand a squeeze. The thought of being here in this tiny space with Thor’s presence filling the entire apartment and not even touching him at all is worse than the thought of the touches turning into more. Into sweet ephemeral kisses and -

He’s such a mess. Maybe he should just get his own place.

But it’s so expensive.

And Thor is…

Thor is getting up, taking the now dripping washcloth back to the kitchen, and his dress pants are doing nothing to disguise the perfect curve of his backside and _you are not supposed to feel this way about your brother_.

He can’t help but think about the one night they had spent together before Thor left for college. He had only meant to say goodbye, to take a few kisses to hoard in his memory for the coming months, and it had turned into so much more and…

And it hadn’t mattered, really. Thor still left.

See what spontaneity gets you? A fat lot of nothing.

Suddenly Loki wishes Thor was back at work. His skin feels too small and his tongue feels too big and his brain feels like it’s going to explode and he just wants to - to not exist for a little while. Sleep maybe.

“I need to take a nap,” he says when Thor comes back out.

“Do you want the bed? I can do work email out here.”

“Thank you,” Loki says gratefully.

He closes the bedroom door and closes the blinds and snuggles into the blankets and pillows that are full of Thor’s scent and closes his eyes and tries to lose himself.


End file.
